


The Monsters We Make

by Jadedphase



Series: Who We Become [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Set during We Are Grounders, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadedphase/pseuds/Jadedphase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because Murphy has never been the most stable person doesn’t mean that he’s never been human; but who would really care when they all see him as a monster?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Monsters We Make

He didn’t really understand the logic to it, why out of all the possible allies Bellamy could have cultivated within the camp he choose what would seem to be the least useful of them. Clarke was the exception, but he liked to think Bellamy was so friendly with that harking witch because she had sway over most of the people and it was hard to carry on a power shift without being able to manipulate those already in power.  
But the others had perplexed him more in the brief time since he’d been lurking around the camp, fresh off that illness and back in uneasy graces with the locals.

No, that was too generous; the fact was most of the camp still was out for his blood but didn’t know what to do about it since he was enjoying the protection of the Princess for as long as she was going to give him that luxury.

 

All of that aside, he still didn’t have it worked out why Bellamy’s new crew consisted of the snarking engineer girl, the bleeding heart boyfriend of her’s and the most bizarre of the lot; the walking billboard for social awkwardness that was currently casting wild eyes at him.

It wasn’t as though he had done anything bad to the guy, yet, only bound and gagged him, but Jasper was staring at him as if he were the specter of death itself.

Which Murphy liked, actually, fear was a good replacement for respect if that was all he was going to get.

"You think this is bad?" He was tempted to laugh at the way Jasper flinched when he drew closer to crouch in front of him. "You have no idea what bad is."

But he could show the idiot, oh yes, because Murphy had learned a few things from his time captive of the Grounders; he could show his own hostage the sort of bad things that only happened to the worst of people.

"You had the distinct displeasure of spending some time with them too, maybe not as long as I did but long enough to know a rope and a gag are nothing compared to what I could do."

Rocking back on his heels, an expression of vague amusement curled at his lips, Murphy was starting to wonder if Jasper’s eyes could bug out of his head anymore without actually falling free of his skull.

"You ever had your fingernails ripped out? How about sliced up a hundred little ways? Left sick and so thirsty you could feel your insides drying up?"

And that was the least of it all, but Murphy decided to save the less pleasant details for later or else risk scaring Bellamy’s new little second in command into a fit.

So he returned to the slow circle of the room, the riffle swinging behind him as he walked as his eyes returning time and time again to the figured backed into the corner of the small space. It would have been too easy to kill Jasper and the satisfaction would have been only fleeting at best; Murphy knew the chances were that he would not survive this time around so he may as well get as much out of it as he could.  
It was only right, if he was going to die anyway by the pointless rules of a camp full of hypocrites, that someone know why.

And Jasper, poor excuse for one that he was likely to be, was going to be the witness to John Murphy’s shattered story.

"You’re not any different than me, the only thing that separates us was that I wasn’t a coward from the start the way you were.

I guess it worked out better for you to come crawling like a kicked dog when Bellamy had exhausted his control and killed off everyone strong enough to oppose him and stupid enough to think they were safe with him; you must be smarter than I gave you credit for.”

Not that he would have changed it, Murphy may have suffered for his bravado but at least in the end he knew where he stood and could say that he had stepped up rather than cowered.

Pausing his circling, he paused before Jasper once again, that time to hook the end of the riffle under his chin at tip it upward and lift that terrified gaze towards him.

"Killing you is doing you a favor, you just don’t know it. Death is easy compared to what he’ll end up doing to you." Murphy gritted his teeth and pulled the riffle away before it became too tempting to pull the trigger; he wasn’t done yet.

Jasper’s anxious eyes were ringed with confusion as well, but that was there, no doubt, because he had some misguided trust in Bellamy. Murphy understood that too well, he had placed himself in the same spot not too long ago and damned himself for ever thinking Bellamy was more than a fool hungry for power and his own survival.

"You don’t believe me now but later on you will, because you’re the type that is loyal and he values that as long as it’s useful to him. You’ll be his best friend until he has to sacrifice you.

Maybe you’ll be more than that, if you’re stupid enough to believe his lies.”

The bitterness was as edged as a blade and it danced in Murphy’s gaze with a venom that Jasper could see so clearly, and then he understood that Murphy had not returned to camp for revenge against them all; he was there for Bellamy.

"Now you’re getting that moment of clarity," Murphy laughed without humor and shoved himself back against a nearby wall just to stay on his feet under the burden of the words.  
Jasper would understand because Jasper was nearly there himself, just one short leap away from becoming Bellamy’s new confidant; a role that would end so much worse than he could ever imagine.

"Maybe I’m your cautionary tale, since I came to the truth too late for myself," Murphy spat the words and laughed again with a cold edge that made Jasper shudder, "Bellamy Blake is only going to use you and everyone else until he can’t anymore, and you especially.

You’re just going to be the stand-in for something better he can’t have, the same way I was.”

The way he said it, with malice wrapped up in layers of suffocating pain, left Jasper staring at Murphy and trying to stomach the idea that for a short second he actually felt sorry for him.

"I should have been smart enough to see I was chasing shadows," Murphy shrugged and pushed away from the wall to resume his slow walk, "or at least smart enough to realize I only caught them because he let think I had."

As difficult as it was to follow Murphy’s words it wasn’t too hard for Jasper to read the meaning in them, but it was a meaning that was difficult for him to fathom because if Murphy really was there on some quest to right the wrongs of how Bellamy had crushed some part of him that meant admitting the insane monster before him was as human as the rest of them.

And it had only taken a choice to make an unstable man into a vicious, broken creature instead; a thought that chilled Jasper right down to his bones.

 

"Killing you isn’t going to hurt him as much as I wish it would because he hasn’t realized yet, but I may have to take solace in the fact that somewhere down the line he’s going to get hit with it one day."

Murphy had a defeated look to him, tired bones held together by bruised skin and knitted with aching muscles, that frightened Jasper more than any show of aggression could have.

A man left with nothing to lose had the freedom to destroy everything around him without any regrets.

Murphy knew that truth himself, he felt as though everything in him had been peeled away to the slick, ivory bones and flayed open, exposed, left to rot in the open air.

His parents had lied, his father’s screaming that he would amount to something if he applied himself and his mother’s bored commentary that if he could just follow the rules he might get what he wanted in life; none of it had been anything but the rambling of two people tired of being saddled with a wayward son.

He had come to understand that the same time he had come to terms with the idea that the only person who would look out for him was himself, the things he thought he had wanted in life had to be grasped and taken rather than waiting for them to be rationed out because for those like himself on the low rungs of life there was hardly anything left at the end of the day.

Because those in power had more than what they needed Murphy had come to detest having so little and working too hard only to be overlooked.  
What made him less than the Princess? On the Ark what had made him less than all the others who lived just a little bit higher and a little better than him?

On Earth Murphy had decided to shrug off the old rules and make his own, to finally have his freedom and his happiness; right up until the moment Bellamy Blake had emerged with a voice of power that had echoed every hope burning inside Murphy that he couldn’t manage himself to voice and left him entrapped in the man’s presence. 

And damn him for that, but more than anything damn him for not appreciating what Murphy had given him so entirely; damn the chains of loyalty to the darkest depths of whatever hell he knew he would one day meet Bellamy on even terms again in finally.

 

The walkie-talkie chirped and they both rolled their eyes towards it, a chilly, amused smirk spreading over Murphy’s lips; “And that would be the king charging in to rescue what, his court jester turned black knight?”

Before he answered the call Murphy set his eyes back towards Jasper with something disturbingly near to a pitying look cast upon him.

"You don’t know it yet, Jasper, but if you survive today it’s just going to lead to the day when he’s going to make you question why you wanted to."

The words hung in the air thick and heavy in a way that left Jasper unable to decide if they truly were those of a madman or only what was left of someone too jaded by life to see past their own pain; in either case it was a miserable fate

While Murphy carried on his conversation via the walkie-talkie Jasper sat trapped by the ropes and the one-sided conversation, trying to distance himself from the way both rubbed sore spots on and under his skin; he no longer knew so clearly where the right and wrong of it all could be found.

All he wanted, ultimately, was to survive long enough to prove to himself that Murphy’s haunting words weren’t true.


End file.
